


Modern Love

by angelboygabriel



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Beach Trip, Car rides, Happy Robbe, Happy Sander, M/M, Summer, fluff & smut, lots of bowie, sander: the bowie music stays ON during sex, sk8r boy robbe, skateboarding lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24266956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelboygabriel/pseuds/angelboygabriel
Summary: A summer weekend in the life of Robbe and Sander, filled with just as much skateboarding, kissing, and adventure as you’d expect.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Kudos: 182





	Modern Love

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to distract myself from not only the world atm but also the monster full length rosander fic I’m working on, so keep your eyes peeled for that one in the coming weeks if you’d like!! I hope this was able to make you smile and as always, your feedback makes my day :)

“Watch me. It’s easy.”

Sander sits on the pavement, legs dangling over the bowl as Robbe steps down on his skateboard and quickly races down and back up, jumping up in the air on the opposite edge and grabbing the top of his board before he sticks the landing and pops right back up next to Sander a moment later.

“And you’re asking me to- to do _that_ when I can’t even stand on a skateboard?” Sander asks incredulously, and Robbe beams down at him, board pointed up as it’s smushed between his foot and the ground.

“Duh,” Robbe retorts and extends a hand to help Sander up. Robbe keeps a hold of his hand and brings him to the flatter area of the skatepark, before he sets his board down and puts a foot on it to steady it. “Okay, first lesson. Get on,” Robbe instructs.

Sander doesn’t like this one bit as he tentatively sets a foot on it, and the skateboard rolls a little. “It’s moving!” Sander points out.

“Thank you so much, Sander, I would have never guessed it had wheels,” Robbe says sarcastically, and Sander scowls at him.

“You’re a mean teacher,” he replies reproachfully before he stands fully on the board and begins to wobble, quickly clinging onto his shoulders. “I’m gonna fucking fall!” Sander yells.

“No you’re not! I’ve got you. And if you really think I’m a mean teacher, you should bribe me to be nicer,” Robbe counters with a little smirk on his face, and if Sander wasn’t 2 seconds from falling on his ass and holding onto his boyfriend for dear life, he would have had a snappy comeback. But, he was facing death, so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m going to take one step back, but I’m not going to let go of your hands,” Robbe says, gentler this time, and takes a very slow step back so that instead of his shoulders, Sander is holding Robbe’s hands. “Good! Look at that! You’re standing!” Robbe exclaims.

“Barely,” Sander grumbles, and Robbe squeezes his hand.

“Can I let go of you?” Robbe questions, and Sander decides it’s safe to say yes. Robbe’s fingers slowly detangle from his, and Sander is standing on the board by himself. He sways left and right a little, but keeps his balance.

Robbe quickly pulls his phone out and snaps a picture, laughing as Sander tries to strike a pose, but then he leans back too far and the board is flying out from beneath his feet. Sander lets out an undignified shriek, uncaring of how everyone else at the park must think he’s a huge idiot.

He collides solidly with Robbe, who rushes forward to catch him in the nick of time. Sander’s heart is beating a mile a minute.

“Trembling like a flower?” Robbe laughs at him as Sander rights himself, not moving from Robbe’s embrace.

“Oh, you think this funny? Bowie lyrics are for _serious_ situations,” Sander says, and Robbe keeps laughing.

“Hey, I told you I wouldn’t let you fall,” Robbe defends and kisses his cheek sweetly. Sander breaks out into a grin.

“Do you know what that felt like?” Sander asks, and Robbe rolls his eyes.

“Um, I think I know what a wipeout feeeeeels LIKE!” Robbe’s sentence ends in a scream as Sander bends over and sweeps Robbe off his feet unexpectedly, scooping him up bridal style. Robbe’s legs are sweaty and dotted with asphalt, and their shirts stick to their chests. They’re definitely making a scene now.

“Sander!” Robbe laughs in exasperation, his arms wrapping around Sander’s neck. Sander sets him back down after a moment, and Robbe pulls him in by the shirt into a laughing kiss. They’re smiling too hard for it to get heated in any way, and Robbe rolls his eyes with that giant grin Sander loves so much before he runs off to go find his skateboard.

He returns with his board tucked under his arm and nudges Sander’a foot.

“Hey. Let’s go back to the flat and make some popsicles. Also, I haven’t packed for tomorrow yet,” Robbe says sheepishly, and Sander rolls his eyes fondly before they leave the skatepark and head down the sun-baked streets of Antwerp.

They argue about the best flavor of ice cream the whole way to the flat, and the only common ground they reach is that mango gelato is really good.

“...Mint chocolate chip is good. You’re a freak for saying otherwise, and I seriously don’t get where the mint chocolate hating trend came from,” Sander says defensively as the door shuts behind them and they toe off their Vans. Zoë, Senne, and Milan are all out shopping together, leaving Sander and Robbe free to blast music and make popsicles.

”Sorry that I have _standards_ , babe,” Robbe says haughtily as they migrate into the kitchen.

Sander picks up the speaker as Robbe roots around in the fridge for lemonade.

”Saying that plain vanilla is the second best flavor behind raspberry swirl is a sign you _don’t_ have standards.”

Robbe snatches the speaker from Sander and connects it to his own phone before Sander can get a word in edgewise, and Sander begrudgingly accepts Robbe’s playlist, stuffed with everything from Tupac to Post Malone and Khalid.

They pour lemonade in the popsicle mold Milan bought for Robbe last year, and set it into the freezer to set. Robbe disappears into his room to throw together an overnight bag, leaving Sander in charge of queueing up Black Mirror on Netflix.

Robbe reappears in the living room and opens up the windows to let the breeze in before he crashes down next to Sander on the couch, turning on the subtitles before starting _Hang the DJ._

They only move once to get the popsicles once they’re ready, and they suck on the lemon pops messily while they watch the show late into the evening, until Robbe convinces Sander to go to bed so they won’t pass out on the road tomorrow.

* * *

“Oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh, little china Robbe...” Sander sings loudly over the radio, the windows down and the wind ruffling their hair as Sander glances over at Robbe and smiles.

Robbe props his feet on the headboard and stretches back, relaxing in the sunshine that seeps into the car as they drive towards the coast, one of Sander’s hands laying easily on the steering wheel while the other rests on Robbe’s bare thigh, below where his shorts are rucked up on his legs. 

_I could escape this feeling with my little China girl_

Sander always said that he knew Bowie was talking about the country China in this song, but he liked to mean it as in china-porcelain when he would sing _my little china Robbe_ to him. It endeared Robbe to no end.

The air starts to smell salty and warm, and then they spot the ocean spreading across the horizon in a dark blue band, tiny cabins and shops sitting the shoreline.

They pull up to the motel they’re crashing at for the weekend, not too far from the rental place they went to with their friends last year, and waste no time checking in. They stop by the room just long enough to throw their bags on the bed and change into swim trunks, before they’re running out of the back door to jump into the ocean in the waning afternoon warmth.

Robbe is a little faster than Sander, and beats him to splashing into the surf, low waves smacking their calves as they wade out until they’re chest-deep.

Sander laughs freely as he watches Robbe’s brunette head duck underwater before he pops back up, sputtering and hair plastered to his forehead.

“Come on!” he yells, and Sander unceremoniously jumps in and resurfaces with a gasp next to Robbe as he shakes his hair. “Hey!” Robbe giggles as he fends off the droplets. They grin at each other and Sander holds his arms out for Robbe to swim into, which he does eagerly. Robbe’s legs lock around his waist and he wraps his arms around Sander’s neck, clinging like a koala.

Their laughter dies down for a moment as they simply hold each other in the ocean, content to float for the time being until Robbe starts peppering kisses all over Sander’s face.

“Thank you for taking me here this weekend,” he says with a sweet smile as he pushes away from Sander by a few inches and floats half on his back.

“Don’t thank me quite yet,” Sander says with a mischievous glint in his eye. Sander can see the exact moment Robbe realizes what he’s about to do as he suddenly reaches for him, and that gives Robbe the edge to quickly bat his hands away before he can dunk Robbe.

“Nuh-uh, not so fast!” Robbe exclaims as they grab at each others’ arms and start to grapple, trying to shove the other underwater. Robbe keeps jerking him in alternating directions, and Sander is a little surprised at how he’s almost won a few times. He has a determined look in his eye and starts pushing forward _hard_ , taking Sander by surprise and he barely manages to catch himself and push back. Just when he’s thrown his full weight forward into shoving at Robbe, Robbe’s hands disappear and he splashes sideways, laughing his ass off as Sander trips and crashes forwards into the water.

Sander comes back up for air and indignantly spits out a mouthful of salty water, and Robbe is still laughing. Sander takes advantage of his momentary distraction to drag Robbe back under with him, Robbe’s yell getting cut off as they submerge and then pop back up again. 

“You’re a- a menace,” Robbe says, running a hand through his hair and making it poke up oddly.

“Says Tiny Tony Hawk who tried to _kill me_ yesterday,” Sander retorts, and Robbe splashes him playfully.

“I didn’t try to kill you. You obviously just have a shit sense of balance,” Robbe counters. Sander grabs for him again in retaliation, and they wrestle around in the water again until Robbe is framing his jaw with his hands and pulling Sander into a messy kiss.

They keep kissing and splashing around until the sun starts to set, and then float on their backs and watch, the waves rocking them as they hold hands underwater.

The sky fades from blue, to yellow, to orange, to purple, and back into blue.

The wind starts to skip colder across the water and Robbe has started to shiver, so they swim back to shore under the last slivers of light and run back into the motel room to seek out towels and warmth.

Sander pops into the shower to wash his hair before the ocean water can do anything to the dye, while Robbe lazily flops down onto the bed.

When he comes back out of the bathroom, Robbe is spread across the top of the duvet and pillows, arms stretched behind his head as he quirks a smile at Sander. He’s settling into his summer tan nicely, and freckles spot his arms and clavicle.

Robbe’s legs cross at his ankles and he pats the space next to him on the bed with a certain look, and Sander quickly pulls his phone out to mute and smacks the tiny portable speaker on.

Sander’s phone connects to the Bluetooth speaker, and _Fame_ starts playing softly in the background as he sits down on the bed next to Robbe, his boyfriend’s legs coming up to point his knees up and let Sander move down the bed more. Sander gets on his knees behind Robbe’s legs and puts his hands on Robbe’s knees before slowly pulling them apart.

Robbe bites his lip, and Sander leans over him to catch his lips in another kiss. Robbe’s knees press into his sides and his hands automatically tangle into Sander’s hair.

Robbe loves the easy give-take they share, the way he can just relax and let go and let Sander take care of him. He loves the way he can let all of his masks drop and can just lose himself in their own little universe. And he knows Sander feels the same, loves feeling in charge sometimes and loves the way they balance each other out.

Sander steadily kisses Robbe into the bed, their kisses growing dirtier with each passing moment they lick into each other’s mouths and Robbe’s hands tighten in Sander’s hair. Sander puts a suggestive hand on Robbe’s hip and Robbe’s legs wrap around Sander’s waist as he kisses desperately into his mouth that still tastes ocean-salty. The soft lull of Bowie in the background make Robbe feel like his blood runs a little hotter.

Sander starts to mouth sloppily down to Robbe’s neck and he sucks in a hard breath as he feels the sharp feeling of Sander biting down a bit.

“More,” Robbe demands, pulling on Sander’s hair until he starts to move even further down. Robbe looks down his stomach at Sander as he kisses his way to the waistband of Robbe’s swim trunks.

“Keep going or stop?” Sander asks, hands paused at Robbe’s waist.

“Keep going,” Robbe manages to choke out. Sander pulls his swim trunks down and Robbe lifts his hips to help him. He’s already hard and anxious, and judging by the similar bulge in Sander’s shorts, he’s not the only one.

_Faaaame, makes a man take things over_

_Faaaame lets him loose, hard to swallow_

Sander pauses, hands pushing Robbe’s thighs down against the couch, Robbe’s left leg dropping towards the floor. He bites his lip as he looks down at Robbe, and Robbe feels his mouth open slightly.

“I’m going to blow you,” Sander says, and Robbe nods frantically. They keep eye contact as Sander lowers himself down towards Robbe’s cock and licks a long stripe up it. Robbe’s hips push up and he whines, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Stop fucking teasing me,” Robbe demands in a warbled voice and grabs a weak fistful of the duvet. Sander wraps a hand around him and starts to stroke torturously slow as he looms over Robbe.

“Patience,” he says in a low voice, and Robbe is on the verge of strangling him as Sander moves back down his body.

“I don’t _want_ to be patient,” Robbe snaps, breath starting to come fast and heavy as Sander keeps jerking him off slowly. Robbe’s legs brace against the mattress, and Sander licks the inside of his thigh to distract him.

He presses his lips higher up on the inside of Robbe’s thigh and keeps going, until he’s finally back where Robbe wants him. He smirks up at Robbe before he swallows him down as far as he can go, and Robbe feels his eyes roll back as Sander starts to move his head a bit.

“Oh, fuck,” Robbe groans to the ceiling as he grabs a fistful of Sander’s hair.

The sight of Sander’s head bobbing up and down between his legs is too overwhelming, so Robbe screws his eyes shut and tries to calm his breathing. It’s not exactly easy, with Sander’s hands running up and down his thighs while his mouth does some downright flithy things to Robbe.

The song changes to _Fashion_ , and Robbe unsuccessfully tries to fight back a moan as he remembers the last time Sander had played this particular song for him.

“Oh, my _god_ , is this- oh, _fuuuuck_ \- is this-“ Robbe stammers, but he can’t quite finish his sentence, thighs tensing up around Sander’s head as his orgasm threatens to creep up. “Is this a _sex playlist_ ,” Robbe finally gasps out, and Sander pulls off of him with a wet sound, mouth slick and red as it pulls into a wicked smile.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Sander says innocently, and that look on his face screams that oh yes he does. The last time Robbe heard this song, he was on top of Sander, Sander’s hands locked on his waist, sweating and turned on out of his mind as he braced his hands on Sander’s chest and-

Robbe shuts that train of thought down immediately. He wants to last at least a little longer.

Robbe manages to last for the rest of the song and halfway through the next AC/DC song until Sander starts using his mouth and hands in tandem in a way that has Robbe thrashing around and swearing up a storm as he comes in Sander’s mouth. Sander looks entirely too smug as he leans back on his knees and wipes his mouth, and Robbe covers his eyes with a groan.

“Good?” Sander asks with a smirk after he swallows, as if it’s ever not. Robbe nods listlessly and lets his gaze fall to the front of Sander’s swim trunks. He reaches forward for the hem and Sander lets him pull, boxing Robbe in with his arms as Robbe’s hand slides into his shorts and wrap around him.

“Shit,” Sander hisses out as he rests his head against Robbe’s shoulder, and lets Robbe work him until he’s shaking and coming in Robbe’s arms. Robbe strokes him through it, until Sander is rolling away with a pained sound and kicks off his trunks.

They’re both quiet for a moment, before they turn their heads against the pillows to look at each other and burst out in laughter.

“That was pretty fun,” Sander says, voice giddy and scratchy, and Robbe nods.

“Yeah it was. We should do that again later. Also, we should try jet skiing,” Robbe suggests, and Sander looks rather caught off guard at the sudden topic change.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Sander says flatly after he has decided that Robbe might be serious. Which, he’s kind of fucking with Sander, but hey.

“Well, why not?” Robbe asks as he rolls on top of him, and Sander’s arms automatically wrap around him.

“If I can’t even stand on a skateboard how the fuck am I going to water ski?!” he exclaims, and Robbe shakes with laughter.

“With _magic_ ,” he says dramatically, and Sander flicks the back of his neck.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sander grumbles, and Robbe sits up a little to look down at him.

“Nope,” he replies with a smirk, and Sander gives him that honest, secret smile Robbe wants to stare at for the rest of his life.

Which he plans to do. 


End file.
